


Take a Breath, My Heart, and Hold Your Tongue

by Makizushi



Series: Is This Weird? [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Grooming, Humiliation, Incest, Oral Sex, Pre-Sburb/Sgrub, Self-Hatred, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:31:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4221819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makizushi/pseuds/Makizushi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drone Season 2015 Prompt: "Dark and twisty Bro/Dave."</p><p>Bro considers letting Dave go on an overnight school fieldtrip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Breath, My Heart, and Hold Your Tongue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delusion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delusion/gifts).



> Mind the tags. Though it provides some insight, reading this is not necessary for understanding ["It's Not Weird (Except When It Is)"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3236942/chapters/7050842)
> 
> [Tsunamayo Makizushi's Writing Tumblr](http://tsunamayo-makizushi.tumblr.com)

_Well, don’t you worry, honey, ‘cuz I can’t say no_  
_Boy, where’s your mother? Fall down dead_  
_Dirty mind, dirty mouth, pretty little head_

“Hey Bro, can you sign this thing?” Dave flapped a slightly crumpled permission slip at Bro where he was dozing on the futon. He had agonized about how to approach the Big Overnight Field Trip issue for days, and the form was due tomorrow.

Bro snagged the paper out of his hand and looked at it groggily. “Why’er you asking? You think I don’t know you sign shit for me?”

Dave tried not to fidget in place, but Bro was staring at him instead of the paper now. “It’s a weekend field trip, Friday and Saturday. We leave right after school so I’d be gone for two days. I thought you _might_ notice if I just didn’t come home.”

Bro flicked his wrist and Dave watched the paper flutter to the floor. “No. We can’t afford that kind of shit, and since when do you go places overnight?”

Dave shuffled forward to retrieve the form, his heart in his throat. “It doesn’t cost any extra, my grade always gets a big field trip. This year it’s the science and natural history museum.” He realized he probably sounded too earnest, and attempted to dial it back and be cool. “I mean, I’m sure it’ll be kind of lame, and all my dumb classmates will be there, but they’ve got fossils.”

Bro reached out a hand and Dave thought he was going to take the permission slip again, but instead he grabbed Dave’s wrist and pulled him to the futon. “Kid, why are you bothering me with all this when I’m not even awake? You gotta give me a minute.”

Dave dropped the form when Bro dragged him onto the futon. He didn’t want it to get crushed or ripped up accidentally. He scrambled up and found himself lying half on top of Bro, his wrist still caught in Bro’s grasp. Bro nuzzled the side of his head, knocking Dave’s glasses crooked.

This had been happening a lot. It… it was fine. Maybe if he made Bro happy enough he’d be able to go on the trip and see all the cool dead shit. Bro caught Dave’s ear in his teeth and he whined softly like he knew Bro wanted him to. It wasn’t like Bro was _hurting_ him, even if it was weird. Bro smoothed his hand down Dave’s side, grabbed his hip, and pushed so that Dave was lying fully on top of him.

Dave closed his eyes and thought about fossils as Bro’s hand wandered onto his butt and thighs. He’d looked it up online; there were imprints of dinosaur bones you could actually touch, not like in art museums where everything was behind a foot of glass. Bro’s other hand slipped into his hair and scratched soothingly. That was always nice, Dave liked head pets and back scratches, and if… if Bro wanted to do other stuff to him too… it was fine. Dave hissed when Bro's fingers dug into old bruises between his legs, but he was being good; quiet and still. He pushed his head into the palm of Bro's hand to show that he wanted it, that he was good and deserved to go on the trip. Hot, damp kisses left his neck feeling tingly and over-sensitive.

The other kids thought Dave was gross for the “allergic rash” he sometimes came to school with on his neck. It was embarrassing and made him feel dirty, like he had fleas. Bro was sleepy and gentle with him this time though. It felt nice, like he was actually wanted instead of an unholy pest. Bro squeezed the back of his upper thigh again and pulled him up by his hair so that he had so scramble to support himself on Bro’s chest. There was an interactive archive of extinct animals on the museum’s website. He’d combed through the pictures, looking for the weirdest animals and sending links to John.

Light stung Dave’s eyes when Bro took his shades and dropped them on floor. He couldn’t see, but it didn’t matter because Bro’s hand was on the back of his neck, drawing him down. It happened by increments; he felt Bro’s breath on his lips, then his mouth, and his tongue, and his teeth. There were things Dave was suppose to do too, ways he was supposed to move and noises he was meant to make, but his mind always stalled and froze for the first minute. But it was fine. He’d unfreeze and he’d do it right. He’d do this and then he’d go on the field trip and he’d tell John all about it, make him jealous.

Dave opened his mouth and let himself be kissed. It was difficult to keep his mind on any train of thought for long. Bro’s hand slipped up under his shirt, the smooth warm leather of Bro’s glove feeling familiar and almost comforting. Dave knew John had never kissed anyone before, neither had either of the girls. He guessed that John’s dad probably didn’t pull him into bed and run his hands all over him, put his tongue in John’s mouth and his- John lived a different sort of life.

Bro was hard under him, grinding into his leg. That was fine though, it was just a normal part of being a guy with a circulatory system. Dave tried to breathe but it came out like a gasp when Bro bit his lip. He was shaking, a little bit, but he wasn’t scared. Not of Bro, who took care of him and taught him how to strife and read his dumb comics. It was _FINE_ that Bro’s hand had slipped into his pants and that his fingers were gripping his ass almost hard enough to leave new bruises. Dave whimpered and Bro licked his way back into Dave’s mouth. It’s not like he was _John_ , it’s not like Bro was his _dad_ , it… it was different. They were different.

The hand in his pants curled so that Bro’s fingers were almost _in_ him and Dave shuddered because he didn’t like- he didn’t _want_ \- They pushed and he squeaked and flinched when he should have moaned. But Bro stopped pressing into him, took his hand out of Dave’s pants all together which was almost as confusing as it was a relief. Instead he sat them both up so that Dave was in his lap. Bro tilted Dave’s face up and ran his thumb over his kiss bruised lips.

“You want to try something else?” Dave had no idea of how to respond to that question. He licked his lips nervously and waited to see if Bro would tell him the right answer. "Yeah, I think you'll like it." Dave nodded. Bro was usually right about these things.

“Open your mouth.” Dave felt really self conscious at the idea of just sitting there with his mouth hanging open, but he did. Bro slipped two of his fingers in and pressed down on his tongue. His fingers tasted like salt, and the edge of his fingerless glove felt weird against his lips.

Bro leaned in to mouth at Dave’s neck again, breathing quiet instructions into his ear.

“Close your lips.”

The gift shop at the museum sold small, cheap fossils of dubious origin. Dave planned to take what little money he had saved up and see if there was anything actually worth buying.

“Watch your teeth.”

A big part of the trip was the special educational presentations by the museum staff, actual paleontologists that got to touch the real bones of extinct animals. The kind of people that traveled to dig sites all over the world.

“Suck. No, not like that. Yes.”

They were old enough to be allowed to wander around the exhibits in groups of three or four, and Dave was sure he could probably drift off by himself without anyone noticing or caring. Flash photography wasn’t allowed but he could probably spend the whole afternoon taking pictures. A couple of them might even turn out good if the lighting in the building was okay.

“Move your tongue.”

Dave made a muffled whimpering noise, and Bro sank his teeth into the side of his neck just under his ear. Instincts were a strange thing; his body felt flooded with buzzing energy that screamed _fight_ and _get away_ but instead he automatically went as still as he was able. He didn’t bite or struggle, he kept working on Bro’s fingers the way he’d been told. He swallowed the spit that had been building up in his mouth since they started, causing Bro exhale sharply against his skin.

"Good boy."

At some point during the proceedings Dave had shut his eyes tightly, so it was a bit of a surprise when Bro drew back all at once. His fingers left Dave’s mouth with a slick, moist sound that made Dave cringe with embarrassment. The inside of his mouth tasted weird, all dried out yet too full of unneeded saliva. He swallowed until he felt a little sick with it.

He wasn’t thinking about it, he was thinking about dinosaur bones, but if he _had been_ thinking about it, which he wasn’t, he would have had a fairly good idea of where this was going. It made his stomach cramp and his head fill with black and white static, but he wasn’t thinking about that. Besides, Bro said he'd like it. He especially didn’t open his eyes when he heard the crackle of Bro’s zipper, or pay attention to the smell of sweat that washed over him. He'd like it, he _would_ , he was being stupid, he-

He was so tense he startled badly when Bro put his hand on the back of his neck. Bro caught his mouth in another kiss and he thought he felt a smile. Bro was laughing at him. Well, he was being ridiculous, jumping at stupid shit for no good reason. Maybe Bro just wanted to kiss him; Dave liked kissing. Maybe he’d put Dave’s hand on his cock in a minute, he didn’t mind getting Bro off that way as much as- as much.

Bro pulled away and leaned back on the futon a bit. Dave didn’t resist the hand pushing him down into Bro’s lap; there wouldn’t have been any point. He tried to shuffle into a comfortable position but it was difficult on the narrow futon. Bro took one of Dave’s hands and fitted it around the shaft of his cock. An animal whining noise escaped his throat when the tip brushed his lips. Dave would have stopped breathing if he could, the smell of sweat and sex was so strong.

“Come on, open your mouth again.” Of course. He was being silly. Why else would he be down here? He couldn’t though; there was goo on his lips already and if he opened them it would get inside his mouth and that was kind of the point so it was stupid of him to freak out like this, if only he could breathe so that air actually went into his lungs but he was panting shallowly like a trapped animal and he couldn’t, he _couldn’t._ Bro’s grip on the back of his neck threatened to turn painful.

“Just try it. I don’t want to force you, neither of us will like that.” Dave whimpered again and opened his mouth.

A tiny, treacherous part of his mind boggled angrily at the idea Bro wouldn’t like forcing him. _Yeah, he just hates it so much. It must be terrible for him, having to hold you down while he fucks you. Looks like you imagined the jizz dripping down your leg after the last time he shoved_ - _._ Dave elbowed those thoughts aside as hard as he could.

He felt his teeth catch on skin and squeezed his eyes shut when he heard Bro hiss. “Open it wider.”

Other thoughts popped up and demanded attention even though Dave had none to give. _Look at you, nasty slut. Obediently sucking cock just to go on a stupid field trip. You just let him put whatever he wants in you._ He shivered, unable to think about fossils anymore, too ashamed.

Bro’s voice was starting to take on a slight, breathless edge. “Cover your bottom teeth with your tongue.” Pre-come and drool mixed in his mouth and dribbled out onto his hand. Bro slowly pushed Dave further down, even though just the head felt too big to fit.

Panic was the enemy, panic made everything more difficult and hurt worse but _oh god you’re going to suffocate and die, you’re going to throw up and catch a beating, you’re going to freak out and then he’s going to fuck your throat while you gag oh god oh_ \- Bro pulled him upright and he gasped so desperately he nearly choked on air. His eyes snapped open when he was shaken roughly by his hair.

“Do it like I showed you.” Dave tried to nod but he couldn’t move without ripping out his hair. Getting pushed back down onto Bro’s cock a second time was almost twice as horrible.

All at once Dave was hyper-aware of everything. _Your hand is covered in drool and jizz, the inside of your mouth is coated with the stuff, the back of your throat tastes like puke, your eyes are burning and your nose is running, fuck, you are so filthy. Why does he even want to put his dick in something so disgusting?_ Dave opened his mouth again without a fuss, feebly trying and failing to think about anything else.

This time he closed his lips like he was supposed to, covered his teeth with his tongue like he was told. Bro loosened his grip on Dave’s hair.

He closed his eyes and imagined the museum, but all that came to mind was his gaggle of classmates and how they just got to go places and do things without-. He thought of John, dorky and ignorant and _good. Wow, how dare you think about John, about other good normal clean children with your nose shoved in your Bro’s pubes like a dog that pissed on the carpet?_ A low, miserable moan started in the back of his throat. Why couldn’t he just _stop thinking_?!

That must have been the right thing to do; Bro’s hips twitched under him and he tasted more bitter goo. He suckled gently on as much would fit in his mouth without choking him, and tried to move his tongue. Bro’s hand was warm on the back of his head, petting and encouraging him instead of forcing him. It was almost nice, but...

Bro’s earlier words circled through his mind on repeat with filthy, unwanted additions; _good boy, such a good boy. Pretty thing, cute whore, obedient pet. Look how quickly you learn new tricks, smart little slut. Maybe if you’re really really good daddy will let you play at being a normal kid, but you’ll know better. You know what a **good boy** you are._ Dave mentally cringed away from his own internal dialog. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Bro helped him get a rhythm going, bobbing his head up and down in short little movements, showed him how to move his now slick hand at the same time. Everything he did made horrible wet, smacking noises that seemed so loud the neighbors would hear and complain. Exhaustion suddenly overwhelmed him and somehow that was the thing that finally caused hot tears to sear tracks down his cheeks. This was really difficult and he was just embarrassing himself even though he was trying so hard! He desperately wished that he was better at this so Bro would finish and be done with him. Maybe if he wasn't such a fuck up it would feel good.

Keeping his mouth open so wide for so long was shockingly painful. It was almost a relief when his timid ministrations weren’t enough and Bro held him still so he could fuck his mouth. Dave let his jaw go as slack as he could, and just… stopped. He stopped moving, stopped struggling to do it right, and stopped feeling the swirling contradictory mishmash of emotions clamoring for his attention. All that was left was smooth, slick skin running over his tongue and bumping the back of his throat. Spit and come slimed his limp, useless hand and made a mess of Bro’s lap as his cock thrust in and out of him.

He took a breath, and waited, and took a breath. He knew what to expect and didn’t need to think or participate. It was fine.

An indeterminable amount of time later Bro pushed deep enough into Dave’s throat that he was startled back into action. He gagged and flinched away hard as thick goo filled and spilled out of his mouth. Much to his surprise, he slipped out of Bro’s grasp and the last of Bro’s orgasm splattered stickily on his cheek. For one horrifying moment Dave thought he would throw up right there but he smacked a foul hand over his equally foul mouth and controlled himself.

Bro was saying something about him having made a huge mess of it, about how he’d better not puke on the futon _do that shit in the bathroom if you have to_. Dave couldn’t move; he was surrounded by, covered in, _comprised of_ filth and he didn’t know how to even begin dealing with it. The shaking had come back tenfold; he wrapped his free arm tightly around his stomach to try and control that too. It was impossible though, he was falling apart and a high, childish keen escaped his throat as he tried to relearn how to breathe normally through entirely too much snot, drool, and come.

Bro flash stepped into the bathroom and a moment later a towel flopped into Dave’s lap. That unfroze him and he could have sobbed with gratitude. He scrubbed his face and hands until they finally felt dry, then he went into the bathroom and did it all again with soap. He got as far as putting toothpaste on his toothbrush, but the thought of contaminating his only one stopped him. The toothbrush was old and red; he stared at it for a while.

After a couple of long minutes spent thinking, Dave slunk out of the bathroom and warily approached Bro. His voice was scratchy and very quiet. “Sorry I freaked out at the end. I didn’t mean to.”

Bro dismissed his apology. “Never mind. You’ll figure it out.” That made Dave feel relieved and wretched simultaneously. Apparently he wasn’t in trouble for being a bad lay, but… he didn’t know. He just... he wanted to be good.

Dave whispered, “I’ll do better” and crept onto the couch slowly, like if he went softly enough he wouldn't be noticed. After a few tense seconds of wondering if he'd be shoved away, mocked, or strifed Dave relaxed against Bro's side and stared at nothing. Bro was warm, and he smelled like things that seemed like they shouldn't go together; like home and sex, like safety and danger both at once. Sometimes Bro absentmindedly played with his hair after, letting Dave drift or even fall asleep for a while. There was none of that comforting reward this time though; he hadn't been good enough and he knew it. A minute or so later Bro stood suddenly and went to his computer, leaving Dave alone and half dazed on the futon.

Bro wasn't looking at or touching him anymore, and while he thought that was what he wanted it just made him feel invisible. Dave decided to go to his room to make no noise and pretend he didn't exist for a while. His shirt was wet in spots so he quickly changed clothes and wrapped himself up in his blanket. A pesterchum notification flashed on his computer screen but he didn’t feel capable right then of maintaining the lie that was his ironically cool facade, so he ignored it. Instead, Dave crawled into his closet and curled up next to his photo developing equipment like he always did when he was hurt or upset. After a while he finally managed to calm his racing thoughts by pretending he was long dead. Like a fossil.

* * *

In the morning Dave found his signed permission slip dangling from a particularly difficult smuppet trap. When he left for the trip he discovered extra money stuck in the mouth of an embarrassing plush toy Bro had managed to sneak into his overnight bag. Dave didn’t know how to feel about that.

It was strange; the whole time he was being- was with Bro his mind wandered to thoughts of the museum, but once he finally got there his brain plagued him with vivid memories of… incidents. The exhibits couldn’t hold his attention, and he could only bring himself to take a few half-hearted photographs. He was twitchy and irritable to the point that people actually noticed; he claimed he had a sore throat and stopped talking. The other kids grated on his nerves and the wifi wouldn’t connect to his laptop so he couldn’t even bitch at John about how shitty everything was. He spent his first night ever away from Bro hardly daring to sleep in the hotel’s unfamiliar bed.

All in all, he wished he'd never gone and it was a relief when they finally went home. Maybe Bro had missed him.

 _Boy, where’s your mother? Fall down dead_  
_Dirty mind, dirty mouth, pretty little head_  
_I wish you were here, I wish you’d make my bed_  
_Dirty mind, dirty mouth, pretty little head_

**Author's Note:**

> [EDIT] A portion of this fic was re-written to be from Bro's point of view. [You can read it here.](http://tsunamayo-makizushi.tumblr.com/post/139676110923/bro-pulled-away-and-leaned-back-on-the-futon-a)
> 
> The song referenced in the title/quoted in the fic is [Eliza Rickman's Pretty Little Head](https://elizarickman.bandcamp.com/track/pretty-little-head).
> 
> Haha! It is I! Makizushi! *literally no one is surprised*
> 
> A huge thank you to my Smut-Editor-In-Chief, they are amazing. Despite their assistance I obsessively micro-edit even after posting, you have been warned. Another big thank you goes out to [rainbowBarnacle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowBarnacle), who helped me keep on track and get this thing done in time.
> 
> Wanna ask me questions? Prompt me things? Yell at me about stuff? Come chat with me on my writing tumblr: [Tsunamayo Makizushi's Writing Tumblr](http://tsunamayo-makizushi.tumblr.com)
> 
> Kudos and comments are very appreciated, thank you for reading!


End file.
